


Out and About

by littlemisscurious



Series: Professor!Tom [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Professor/Student Relationship, professor!tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an argument both Professor Hiddleston and his much younger girlfriend go out in London with their respective groups of peers. Things heat up as the evening progresses</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out and About

 

“Tom, you seem distracted tonight. Is everything okay?” A colleague of his, Professor Jones from the English Department, leaned over to him, a worried smile on his face. Quickly, he pushed his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and picked up his drink. “Yes, of course, all is well. Just the usual end of term exhaustion. I have a lot going on in my head at the moment,” he said with an apologetic smile and the older man seemed content with that answer.

For a while they chatted about his book and the progress he was making. Thomas was alright with that because anything academic kept his mind from thinking about his girlfriend and what she’d be up to on this particular night.

 

They had argued before he’d left for London. Every year at the end of term a few colleagues and he himself went to London to see a play in the West End before they went for a fancy dinner at The Wolseley to celebrate the survival of another term and the impending time off from students, their questions, and their problems. Well, they would have time off, he wouldn’t. But then again, he loved spending time with her, normally, and didn’t mind if she used him every now and then as her sounding board when she wrote another of her essays.

But back to their argument. A few months had passed since Christmas Eve and they had fallen back into place as if they’d never been apart. They had, of course, and maybe it was their insecurity, maybe it was the secrecy surrounding their relationship once they left his house, but they tended to argue more and more. It was about little things most of the time, things that every couple argued about every now and then. But it was also about more substantial things, issues which had a bigger impact than who’s turn it was to do the shopping.

 

It was Natasha’s final year and she was no longer attending any of his classes. He, therefore, had made the, in his mind reasonable, suggestion to make their relationship public. He hated hiding, hated pretending that she was one of his students and nothing else. He wanted to stroll around campus with her, his arm around her waist, or take her to the movies or even go to the pub with her on a Friday evening after classes. She didn’t want that. She feared for her own academic career and for his, too. It was only logical to her that they’d wait until she had graduated because afterwards she might not even attend Cambridge anymore. It had hurt him to hear her say those words.

Earlier, though, they had argued about something else entirely. She had wanted to go to London with him or rather with some of her friends, or at least what she called friends. He liked her flatmates, he totally did, but the girls she wanted to hang out with on this particular day were trouble and he had never liked them. They drank too much, partied too hard, probably even took drugs as far as he knew. He simply didn’t feel comfortable knowing she’d hang out with them in a city she wasn’t familiar with so he had played the what she called ‘Daddy card’ and told her he didn’t want her to go.

Of course he knew he couldn’t forbid her to do certain things. But he had hoped she’d understand him and his worries and decide against it of her own accord. Of course she didn’t. So now she was out and about in London with a group of entirely irresponsible, rich, spoilt kids who meant nothing but trouble while he was stuck at this dinner with his otherwise best pals. He wanted to enjoy himself, he truly did, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

 

Once Professor Jones, Alec, turned back towards his fellow colleague from the English Department, Thomas excused himself briefly and went to use the bathroom. Hiding in one of the cubicles, he pulled out his phone again and sent a text message to Natasha.

_“Hi love, I was just wondering what you’re up to. Everything okay? Love you, Thomas”_

He leaned against the wall behind him and took a deep breath. Who knew if she even carried her mobile with her and even if she did, she might still be mad at him and she’d probably refuse to answer. Just as he was about to leave the bathroom again, though, his phone vibrated and he quickly looked at the screen.

_“You want to know what I’m up to? Let’s see...I had a few cocktails with the others at a bar somewhere in Mayfair. James’ treat. Now we’re on our way to some club and I am wearing my new red dress, my black heels, and the new underwear I bought earlier. Shame you’re too busy to hang out with us. Enjoy your cucumber sandwiches…”_

Thomas was seething when he read that text and the fact that she sent a photo of her breasts clad in nothing but some elaborately decorated lace labelled _“Let me know if you change your mind”_ , shortly after, didn’t really help matters either.

He splashed a bit of cold water into his face and dried off again before he walked back to his table, a fake smile plastered to his face. He secretly hoped this dinner would be cut short eventually even though he did normally like spending time with his peers. Tonight, however, not so much. He’d much rather enjoy the company of a young student he’d more often than not shared his bed with nowadays.

 

As the evening went on, he received more texts from her, almost always accompanied by a photo of her looking seductively into the camera or laughing with her best assets clearly visible for him. The messages got more raunchy, too, presumably thanks to the drinks she was enjoying. At last he could no longer contain himself and excusing himself from his colleagues stating he’d had a terrible migraine, he paid for his dinner and left the restaurant shortly after, mobile phone in hand.

 _“Where are you?,”_ he wrote as he waited for a cab. Piccadilly was still bustling with people, cars, and buses and yet he cared for only one particular person.

_“I’m at the XOYO near Old Street. Why? You want to come and get me and spank me for being naughty? Oh yes please, professor! Please, come and get me ;)”_

 

As quickly as possible he googled the exact address of the club before he jumped into a taxi and told the driver the address. The following 25 minutes seemed endless and shortly before he arrived, he sent her another text, asking her to come and meet him at the entrance. He was sure she wouldn’t comply but then he’d have to go inside and she’d have to explain to her fellow students why her Ancient Greek professor was picking her up from a London club. He wondered what she’d do.

She was already waiting by the door when he got there and wordlessly she jumped into the cab with him. “Where’s your jacket,” he hissed at the sight of her wearing nothing but her skintight, revealing red dress and heels and she smirked at him as she crossed her legs. “I didn’t wear one. Why? Do you not like my dress? I bought it with you in mind,” she whispered as she leaned over to him, her tongue already tracing the shell of his ear.

Thomas swallowed and with a slightly shaky voice he told the driver the new destination, this time the hotel he had booked for them both near Paddington.

 

Realising that her advances were (not yet) working, Natasha leaned back again and watched the city fly by outside. She had hoped he’d pick her up eventually because, as much as she liked being with her fellow students, she had grown so used to having him around. He was older, obviously, and less childish and stupid. He was a man while so many of the others were still little boys who had been given toys they didn’t know how to play with yet.

And she had also relied on him being angry with her, at least a little. He was so sexy when he was mad and she couldn’t wait for him to tell her exactly what to do once they had reached the safe and private confines of their hotel room.

As the driver steered the car out of the City and along Euston Road, she looked back at Thomas again. His gaze was directed at the houses they passed and she smiled at his slightly lost and insecure expression. He startled a bit as her hand came to rest on his thigh before she moved it further to his middle, finding his cock and massaging it through his trousers.

“Natasha,” he hissed, briefly glancing at the driver but she didn’t let herself be irritated. Moving closer to him, she kept touching him all the while pretending nothing extraordinary was happening on the back seat. Her nimble fingers quickly opened the button and zipper of his trousers and she pushed her hand inside, biting her lip as she wrapped her fingers around his semi-hard length.

Thomas was desperately trying to hide his crotch underneath his jacket. While he was sure the taxi driver had seen worse things in the past, he didn’t want this to become a public event and he glared at Natasha who only licked her lips in response, enjoying his reaction.

“Hold that thought,” she whispered cheekily as they had reached the hotel and a quiet chuckle left her mouth as she watched her boyfriend struggle to close his trousers while also paying the driver. Thomas ended up holding his jacket in front of the bulge in his trousers while the other was firmly on her back, guiding her inside and into the elevator.

 

“What the hell, Natasha?,” he hissed once they had reached their room but she only kissed him, hungrily, while her fingers already worked on taking off his shirt. It ended up on the floor, somewhere over by the bed, and was quickly followed by his shoes, socks, and trousers.

A quiet groan left her mouth as she looked down towards his boxer shorts, clearly unable to hide his erection for much longer. “God, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” she whispered and dropped down onto her knees, freeing him from the last piece of clothing after all. Her plump, red lips wrapped around him and a moan left his mouth as he buried one hand in her hair. He knew she needed no guidance with this but neither of them had ever quite tired of the little professor-student thing they had going on, entirely independent from their actual status of professor and student. She loved being told what to do and he loved telling her exactly that. And as long as both got their pleasure from their little power play, neither saw any reason to refrain from it.

For a moment he allowed her to act of her own accord, her slender fingers wrapped around his shaft and her lips pumping up and down his member. He knew, though, that she’d rely on his commands soon enough and after another deep breath, he said, “Take off your dress. Leave on the heels, though.”

She released him with a quiet plop and stood up again. Slowly, and with her eyes fixed on his, she pushed the dress off her shoulder and eventually off her entire body. She was wearing the most delectable lingerie, the one from the photo actually, and he took his time taking her in. Her round, soft breasts literally screamed to be freed from the bra so he could let his tongue swirl around her pink nipples. He wondered how wet she was already and when he took a step forward and pushed his hand between her legs, she moaned and held onto his shoulders.

“Come on, Professor Hiddleston, punish me for being a naughty girl. We both know you want to,” she whispered with a smile and with a click he locked the door before leading her over to the bed. It would be a sleepless night indeed but if she wanted punishment she should get it after all.


End file.
